


Quiet Until Beaten

by TN_Night



Series: #JeanMarcoWeek2015 [4]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bullying, Depression, Drabble, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, JeanMarco Week, JeanMarco is so subtle it's pretty much non-existent, Kinda, M/M, Mute Marco, Oops, Unconventional Relationship, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-03
Updated: 2015-07-05
Packaged: 2018-04-07 10:04:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4259232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TN_Night/pseuds/TN_Night
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marco Bodt is a mute, and his bully, Jean, prefers it that way. (Just saying, the JeanMarco in this is pretty much non-existent but you can kinda see how it would play out at the end, sorry!)</p><p>(you guys already know I'm terrible with summaries, don't base anything I write off of these oh my gosh)</p><p>Written for JeanMarco Week 2015, day 4: Call My Name.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Definitely not my best work, definitely rushed. I seriously couldn't think of anything for this prompt, maybe tomorrow's will be easier T~T
> 
> I might actually switch this out for a different story that I originally planned to write for this prompt, or add a second chapter to this so it actually has some JeanMarco, we'll see.

 

 

The shrill beeping of an alarm resounded throughout the dark room and the only other sound that could be heard besides it was the pounding of rain against the glass pane of the window. Marco's eyes opened slowly as he pushed himself up on one arm and yawned.

 

Looking over to the clock he saw that the time was seven thirty. He pushed himself up the rest of the way and planted his feet on the floor beside the bed, shivering when the his skin made contact with the cold floor boards. Marco messily made his bed, not bothering to make it perfect, and stepped out of his room, walking down to the bathroom to get ready for his day.

 

After his usual morning routine of using the toilet, showering, and brushing his teeth and hair was finished, the teen returned to his room. He walked over to his dresser and grabbed out a pair of dark navy blue jeans and a loose light grey sweater before tugging on the clothes and stopping. He looked up to the ceiling, heaving a sigh and closing his eyes. The teen stood there for a good five minutes before he moved again.

 

A typical morning for Marco Bodt. 

 

The boy walked down the stairs with a tired look on his face– he'd given up long ago on trying to look like he enjoyed life, like he wanted to live at all. The kitchen was bustling with life, his mother cheerily dancing around making breakfast while she talked animatedly with his father, who was sitting at the table and smiling, nursing the coffee in his hands. When he stepped in the room both sets of eyes landed on him, both their faces twisting from elated to that of disappointment. 

 

His mother pulled out a chair for him and set out a plate of pancakes on the table top, motioning with her hand for him to take a seat. He did so, picking up a fork and starting to eat after nodding in a gesture of thanks to his parents. The room fell silent. Much like how the teen didn't try to mask his pained face anymore, his parents didn't try to hide their discontent with him. In how they'd wanted him to be so much more than just a child who didn't talk to or answer anyone.

 

Marco finished his meal, nodding to his mother once again as he passed her to quickly (as he could) wash his dishes. 

 

He finished and turned, going over to the entrance and grabbing his messenger bag before walking out the door, saying no form of goodbye and hearing none in return.

 

––––––––

 

Marco didn't pay attention to the lesson the teacher was giving that day. Not that he did often; sometimes he did, but the rain outside the window beside him was just to pretty to ignore. So instead he sketched the beautiful drops of rain that clung to the glass, daydreaming about nothing, which was his everything. 

 

––––––––

 

When the bell rang the teen waited for the classroom to empty out before he got up from his seat, knowing he wouldn't be noticed and get trampled or that he'd be all too noticed and get pestered if he got up sooner.

 

He walked out and down the hall, weaving between the hordes and masses of sweaty kids until he got to the secluded corner of the hall where his locker was. The teachers had thought he'd be less noticeable the off to the side like this, that he'd be confronted less often and that he could get his books and things in peace without people shoving themselves in his face. Instead all it did was give other students the option of backing him into a corner. Which he was currently, sadly. 

 

"Hey! Marco! You gonna talk for us today?" Jean said, leaning his hand on the wall above Marco's head, trapping him.

 

He heard some other students and his usual attacker's friends snickering at his downcast facial expression, whispering about him loud enough to hear. 

 

He suddenly smacked his hand on the wall, causing the other to flinch and crouch in on himself more than he already was, Jean laughed. 

 

"Wow, you're such a child. First you can't talk and now you're scared by a little noise, what a pussy," He chuckled out, smacking Marco upside the head with force and turning to go off to his next class. 

 

Marco slumped down to the ground when they were gone, praying a silent thank you for that being one of the least forceful attacks he'd ever gotten. He waited while he watched Jean and his friend's backs retreat down the hall before he stood up and rushed off to the library. 

 

––––––––

 

And this was the life of Marco Bodt, every single day was the same, the only changes simply being the difference of classes and creativity of the words of his attackers. 

 

He went home that night and in the morning woke up to the bright shining sun he didn't want to see, walked down to disapproving parents, and headed off to school to teachers who were unenthusiastic about his behaviour, and students who hated him because they could. 

 

When he was cornered in the halls that day it wasn't during a break, Marco was on his way to get something the teacher'd requested from another room, and on his way, he bumped into Jean. The halls were empty aside from him, meaning there were no spectators to rat on the assailant, not that anyone ever would. 

 

Jean smirked when he saw the black haired teen, walking straight up to him and shoving him against a row of lockers with his forearm pressed sternly against his chest. The _bang_ of the boy hitting the metal was like a gunshot, loud and signalling of destruction. 

 

Jean's eyes were dark and angry, and if Marco had to guess, he would say that he'd had a pretty shitty day, which automatically meant that he was about to have an even worse one. Jean loosened the pressure of the hold he had on the other teen before quickly replacing it twice as hard so Marco's back hit the lockers behind him once again, though harder than before. 

 

"Hey, Bodt," the stronger spat in his face, literally, before getting uncomfortably close and baring his canines like a pissed off animal. 

 

Marco could barely breathe, both from anxiety and from the fact that the arm holding him in place had slowly traversed up to his neck, effectively cutting off his air supply from the force. He tried grabbing the arm, clawing at it and attempting to pry it off him, but when Jean noticed what he was doing he grabbed the other's hair, pulling and throwing him to the ground by it, kicking him in the face and probably breaking a bone when he did so. 

 

A small puddle of blood manifested below Marco's nose on the floor as the other continued his attacks, a similar few drops of tears under his eyes as Jean moved from kicking him in the face to his stomach. The other was panting, adrenaline pushing him forward to continue his assault on the other when he suddenly froze, eyes going wide at what he thought he'd heard.

 

"Stop," it was a choked and broken sob, the voice hoarse and grainy from crying and the lack of use, "J-Jean, please."

 

Jean stood there, still unmoving before he realized what happened, he looked over to the other's face, upon seeing the look on his face he noticed he probably hadn't expected to speak either. Suddenly realizing how bad the situation must've been for his mute target to speak, he quickly whipped his head around; when he saw that there was nobody to see them, he ran. Leaving Marco lying on the floor was probably a bad idea, as he could technically tell someone who beat him, but judging by any past events, he knew that that was unlikely. 

 

––––––––

 

The teacher had sent someone to look for him when he hadn't come back in so long after that, and he'd gone to the hospital soon after for a broken nose and dislocated shoulder, but thankfully nothing too serious. Jean hadn't been caught, as he'd thought. But something much worse had been on his mind after the incident anyway. 

 

When he'd started attacking the other boy in the first place, he didn't ever really think of it as hurting another human, he was simply using him to let out frustration and anger of his own, he didn't talk back or scream, he was just…there. It made everything that much simpler. But when he'd heard him calling out to him, asking him to stop, it'd reminded him that he was actually a person, that he felt pain, that he wasn't really the moving punching bag Jean wanted him to be. 

 

It'd already been a few weeks since the incident, Marco was healing, Jean was conflicted, life moved on. No more attacks had happened since then. Marco grew anxious for the next one, feeling as though Jean was just waiting for him to heal so he could break him again, after all, there was no fun in kicking someone when they're already down. 

 

It was nerve-wracking enough to simply _see_ Jean in the halls anyway, but when he saw him coming towards him one afternoon, Marco was terrified. He shoved himself in the corner and shook, hoping the other would change his mind and leave him be, sadly, Jean kept on, not stopping until he was directly in front of the black haired teen. 

 

"Marco."

 

He waited a second, though the other's eyes eyes were closed and he was still quaking, so judging from besides the obvious, he didn't really expect a response anyway. 

 

The bell rang and students cleared out of the hallway, leaving only the two of them, one of them reluctant to leave before he said anything of merit and the other trapped.

 

Jean sucked in a breath, slowly letting it out and looking off to the side, "I-I'm just…sorry. For everything."

 

Marco opened one eye, face softening slightly when he saw the slightly pained look on the face he was so used to seeing anger and hatred on. 

 

He breathed, closing both eyes once again when he quietly said, "It's okay," and walked around the other teen, who stood shocked in place.

 

Nobody really knew how the two went from being the bully and the bullied to what they were afterwards, but only Marco knew it was because he'd called Jean's name. 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean and Marco hanging out together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I did end up making a part two to this. Like the first part, it's rushed, and takes place a while (probably a few months) after they become friends. Enjoy~

 

The class was talking quietly amongst themselves during the short break they had while their teacher talked to another, leaving them to silently study on their own for a few minutes. Marco and Jean had taken to sitting next to each other when they had class together, Marco staying in his usual seat beside the window in the back, Jean moving from the front of the class to sit in the row next to his. 

 

They talked like the rest of the class did, albeit even quieter, whispering. Jean was talking about pretty much anything he  could think of, as if any simple bit of information was a weight on his chest that he had to remove. Marco didn't respond often, but he did sometimes, throwing in occasional short sentences or words of confirmation to show he was listening. 

 

The topic eventually moved from mundane gossip to plans for weekends, Jean asking Marco what he was doing over the time and getting back a simple, "I don't know" or a "Whatever I feel like then, I guess"."

 

"Well, do you wanna hang out?" Jean asked, leaning his head on his hand, his elbow resting on the desk in front of him.

 

Marco thought on it for a second, replying with a hushed, "Sure."

 

He smiled, "Wanna come to my place then? I've got video games n' stuff."

 

The other male scrunched up his face a bit in apprehension, rapidly tapping his pen on the tabletop out of nervous habit, "I'd be more comfortable if my parents happened to hear me rather than a stranger…" He mumbled.

 

Jean looked a bit surprised, as that was probably the most words he'd ever heard out of the other boy's mouth at once. But nevertheless, he sighed, nodding in an understanding gesture, "Yeah, I get it. Your place then?"

 

A ghost of a smile touched his lips as he nodded once, "Okay."

 

––––––––

 

At the final bell they met up, each waiting at the other's locker while they got their things before they headed out and off the school grounds, Jean following Marco as he had no idea where they were going. 

 

Jean texted his mom while they walked, telling her he'd be late. Marco smiled sadly at that, thinking about how it would be if he ever went out on his own accord without telling anyone, _'Would they even notice? They probably wouldn't care.'_

 

Marco calmly walked up the steps of his front porch, Jean following quickly behind and jogging up the stairs after him. Marco opened the door and strode in, kicking off his shoes and waiting for the other to do the same before they started off through the living room– the only way to get to the stairs to his room. 

 

His parents were both sitting on the couch, watching t.v and drinking tea when they walked through. Marco concluded they wouldn't've even bothered to turn around had they not heard two set of footsteps instead of one. When they saw Jean walking with him their faces showed a hundred different shades of confused and surprised, yet they still said nothing, going back to watching whatever they were before. Marco turned and faced forward again, not sparing another glance back to either of his parents as he took Jean's hand in his own, leading him upstairs to his bedroom. 

 

When they got up to the room they both quickly found places to sit, Marco on his bed and Jean at the rolling desk chair he found on the other side of the room. After a second or two of silence, the black haired teen sighed, relaxing his typically tensed muscles and deciding to lie down instead of sit on his bed. 

 

Jean's was a bit taken aback before he smirked, _'So this is what he's like when he's not worried about shit.'_

 

Marco, realizing what he'd done in front of another person, cleared his throat, his cheeks turning an amusing shade of red as he propped himself up on one elbow, but otherwise made no move to sit back up. 

 

"Sorry, I haven't had people in my room for years," he said, voice loud and clear and unfamiliar to even his own ears.

 

Jean's smile only got wider, "It's fine, I like seeing you relaxed. It suits you."

 

They chatted about nothing, much like they had at school only now Marco's sentences were fuller, more detailed, happier. 

 

That was until…

 

"So, do you like anyone?" Jean himself didn't even know where the topic came from, but now it was out, so he decided to roll with it. 

 

And Marco's face was back to red and his speech back to flustered, "U-um, I've never really dated anyone…Or liked anyone, I guess…"

 

The other just laughed, "Oh, come on, you've gotta have a crush, at least. What's your type?"

 

He thought on it for a little while, his thoughts were a jumbled mess from the question already so he didn't know exactly why or where his answer came from, "Men."

 

Neither male said anything, both their eyes widening a bit, Marco's in embarrassment and confusion as to why he'd just admit that, and Jean's out of general surprise.

 

The silence stretched on until Jean suddenly burst out into laughter, the sound loud as it reverberated and bounced off the walls as mirth brought tears to his eyes, "R-really? Just men, any man?" 

 

"Well, I don't know, you're making this hard!" He grumbled, not enjoying being made fun of.

 

"Making what hard?" Jean said, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. 

 

"Jean!" The other teen shouted, burying his face in a pillow out of mortification, only making the older teen laugh harder. 

 

Once the laughs died down to chuckles, Jean walked over to the bed, sitting down next to the boy whose face was still consumed by a cushion. He shook him lightly by the shoulder until the tuff of hair rotated, showing the face on the other side.

 

"I'm not making fun of you for being gay, you know. I just laughed because it was a pretty random thing to say outta nowhere," Jean was still smiling. 

 

Marco sighed, "I know, I know."

 

He sat up noticing now that he'd shuffled a bit closer to the other teen than he'd intended. Clearing his throat once again, he scooted over to the side. Of course, Jean noticed this and frowned, moving himself over a bit as well until they were pressed up against each other, causing Marco to move over more and Jean to once again follow. 

 

They continued this until they reached the end of the bed, Jean's leg nearly on top of Marco's by that point. 

 

"J-Jean? Could you–" Marco was cut off by a hand that'd gripped his knee, and a face that'd gotten considerably closer to his, he gulped louder than intended.

 

"Hmm?" Jean hummed, pressing their foreheads together and staring the other straight in his eyes.

 

"U-um…Nothing…" Marco trailed off, his eyes moving from Jean's down to his lips, unintentionally leaning in closer until they just barely touched his own. 

 

The kiss was soft, both mouths slowly moving in tandem for a few seconds before breaking apart. 

 

Neither said anything about what happened after it did, both just naturally lying down on the bed, hands eventually snaking together as they resumed a lazy conversation, as if they'd done this a million times before.

 

"Hey, Marco?" Jean said sleepily.

 

"Yeah?" He replied, yawning himself.

 

"Will you go out with me?"

 

Marco snuffled, trying to keep his drooping eyelids open before finally giving in and letting them shut, still facing the other but no longer being able to see him, "Kay."

 

Jean snorted, shaking his head lightly while also closing his eyes, ""Kay", we are such teenagers."

 

Marco smiled, pressing his face against Jean's neck, "Yep."

 

They fell asleep together like that, neither caring if Marco's parents found them twisted up together in the morning. Not that it'd really matter, they had each other now, and even if it wasn't the most conventional relationship, it would be something to call theirs. 

 


End file.
